Horny

Something was growing on my left temple. Granddaughter Phoebe asked several times what it was. I told her it was a rice krispie but it was actually a cutaneous horn. It was probably connected with historical skin damage resulting from too much exposure to the sun.

In 61% of cases, cutaneous horns are benign and nothing to fret about but in a minority of instances they may have malignant, cancerous undertones.

Anyway, about six weeks ago I was visiting my GP about my ongoing battle with high blood pressure. Before I left, I asked him if he would check out the little growth on my temple. A more senior doctor also came into the consulting room and I was then referred to the dermatology department at our local teaching hospital - The Royal Hallamshire.

A month ago I was checked out by a consultant and this evening I went back to the hospital to have the thing "scraped" away under local anaesthetic. I was operated on by a very nice nurse practitioner, ably assisted by a friendly support worker.

The whole experience was more than fine. The two women were very kind, patient and clear about what they were doing. As I departed, I said something like this...

" I have had a lot to do with the NHS these past two years and I have met a good number of NHS professionals. Every person I have met has been kind, professional and good at their jobs and you two ladies certainly fall into that category too. I thank you so much for they way you have treated me. You are a credit to the great organisation you work for. I will be contacting the hospital suggesting that you both receive big bonuses with your pay cheques this month."

The last point made them both chuckle and Helen, the nurse practitioner, said, "Thank you for your kind feedback. It's been a long and tiring day and it's nice to know that we are appreciated. I wish that all of our patients were like you."

My excised cutaneous horn will be analysed in a lab and I should receive the verdict within six weeks.

At the site of the absent krispie, there will be a little scar. I told Helen I didn't mind because I could tell others that I had been in a pub fight. She suggested that my yarn could instead be about a duel in the woods with swords. I rather fancy myself as a modern day D'Artagnan.

In the meantime, I am not horny any more. If you were eating something buttery when you began reading this post - or even a bowl of rice krispies - please accept my sincere apologies if the picture at the top disturbed you.